


Midnight Shooting Star

by ZodiacRiver



Series: Blue Spring Ride (YueSing High School AU) [2]
Category: Banana Fish (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Banana Fish Fluff Week 2019, Crushes, Fireworks, Fluff, M/M, Puppy Love, Sharing a Bed, Sleepovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-02 04:17:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17257424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZodiacRiver/pseuds/ZodiacRiver
Summary: Yue-Lung invites Sing for a New Year's Eve sleepover.Yue-Lung always, always gives him the worst dilemmas. And Sing always, always ends up agreeing.





	Midnight Shooting Star

**Author's Note:**

> Happy New Year everyone!! Let us all start 2019 right by some FLUFF!!! I wrote this for Banana Fish Fluff Week 2019, with the theme 'firsts'! What kind of firsts, I can only tell one on the tags ;)
> 
> This is kind of a sequel to [From Me to You](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17238506)!! It can stand alone, but it will make more sense if you read it first :)
> 
> The title is inspired by yet another shoujo manga, Hirunaka no Ryuusei (Daytime Shooting Star). I changed it to 'midnight' because it fits the story more.

Sing stares at his phone screen. A message notification from Yue-Lung pops up ever since ten seconds ago. He straightens himself up, sitting on the chair with his back pressed hard to the back of the chair. He lifts the phone up so that it’s eye level to him. There’s no mistaking it now. It’s clearly from Yue-Lung.

 

He quickly tries to balance out the possibilities in his head. He knows that, if he opens the message now, there’s a huge chance he won’t know how to reply. But if he doesn’t, he will leave Yue-Lung hanging and he definitely doesn’t want that.

 

_Hey Sing, do you want to spend your New Year…_

What does he want? What exactly is his request? Sing won’t know unless he opens it. But he’s _way_ too embarrassed to do that. Hell, even seeing Yue-Lung’s name on his phone already makes him blush.

 

Sing opens it anyway, unlocking his phone with a single slide of finger. The message appears before him. For a moment, he stops breathing altogether. He doesn’t even move a muscle.

 

_Hey Sing, do you want to spend your New Year’s Eve (and the New Year itself too) at my house?_

He sighs deeply. His finger hovers over the keyboard shakily. There are only two things to say: yes or no. His answer is somewhere between that. Of course he’d love to spend his time at his crush’s house, but at the same time, that will be too awkward for Sing to handle.

 

After a little incident, Yue-Lung knows about Sing’s feelings. And, somehow, Sing knows that he reciprocates, but they never talk about it. That’s kind of an elephant in the room.

 

_Sing?_

Sing groans in frustration. If Yue-Lung has double texted him like this, then that means he _really_ demands for an answer.

 

 _When?_ Sing hits send. Right, ask questions before accepting an offer. Always do that. Always play it safe.

 

_Right now, silly. Today is New Year’s Eve._

Sing can feel his stomach churning. Now that is uncalled for. What are the chances that things go wrong? He can barely speak properly in front of Yue-Lung when he’s around, let alone hanging out with him—and in his house too, at that!

 

But there will be no second opportunity, will there?

 

 _Okay, sure._ Sing puts his phone down as soon as the message is sent. He looks up at the ceiling, then at the phone, at the ceiling, at the phone again, anxiously waiting for a buzz.

 

It’s only after five minutes that he realizes that he has his phone on silent.

 

_Can you walk here by yourself or should I send you a car?_

_Sing?_

_Sing, are you there?_

It hasn’t even started yet and he already screws up.

 

…

 

Sing takes his bicycle to Yue-Lung’s house. The security guards let him in, and the servants don’t stop him from knocking on Yue-Lung’s bedroom door. Everyone simply nods at him politely.

 

“There you are, Sing.” Yue-Lung has his hair braided. He’s wearing a plain oversized shirt. For a rich kid, he surely is simple. Even his bedroom is simple. There are king-sized bed, an equally huge wardrobe, a TV, a study table, and the rest of the room is empty space, save for the mat on the floor. “My brothers aren’t going to be home for a long time. Usually, of course I’m not allowed to have friends over.”

 

Sing only nods. “Thank you…for inviting me.”

 

Yue-Lung offers him tea. He has an entire pot on his table. When Sing asks why, he answers, “in case you want any refills.”

 

Sing expects the situation to be super uncomfortable (read: awkward), but time seems to flow like a river when they begin to enjoy themselves, indulging in board games and TV.

 

They watch a bad romance soap opera, spending their time laughing at the characters’ absurd decisions, the awful acting, and the exaggerated visual and sound effects.

 

“I can act better than that,” Sing comments.

 

“Really? You’ve got any acting experience before?”

 

“I was in a school’s play when I was in first grade. It was Red Riding Hood.”

 

Yue-Lung leans closer, interested. Sing bites his tongue and locks his eyes on the TV, unable to even glance at Yue-Lung. “And what was your role?”

 

“The tree.”

 

Yue-Lung laughs. That’s the first time for Sing. Usually, Yue-Lung chuckles at most. He’s too calm for a laugh, Sing used to think. But right now, he’s laughing, and he’s laughing _because of him_. Sing wishes that he can cover up the redness on his face without looking so obvious. Yue-Lung’s laugh is as lovely as the rest of him.

 

“What?” Sing speaks. “They won’t use props so they recruited us first graders instead.”

 

“That’s actually pretty funny. You know how to joke, Sing.”

 

Sing replies with a smirk and a prideful mutter. Deep inside, though, it feels really amazing being praised by Yue-Lung.

 

“Your face is red, Sing. Do you have fever?” Sing loses all composure when Yue-Lung presses the back of his palm on his forehead. His heartbeat suddenly feels sporadic, thrumming hard that Sing thinks it’s going to burst anytime soon. “Ah. You’re warm. Let’s take a nap.”

 

“I—uh, you haven’t shown me my room.”

 

“ _This_ is your room.”

 

“Oh, then, do I sleep on the mat, or?”

 

“Are you kidding?” Yue-Lung laughs again. Sing curses in his mind. His head spins. He’s going to get sick if this continues, and it’s all Yue-Lung’s fault. “Of course on the bed.”

 

“Uh, but that’s your bed.”

 

“You’re small. You can fit in there with me.”

 

_Holy shit! He wants us to share a bed!_

Yue-Lung always, always gives him the worst dilemmas. And Sing always, always ends up agreeing.

 

Yue-Lung falls asleep quickly. They are quite far apart from each other, considering the massive size of the bed. But Sing still can’t believe that he gets himself into this mess. Right now, Yue-Lung is sleeping next to him, blanket covered up to his shoulders, only revealing his face was visible, along with his downy hair and fist. His breathing is steady and slightly audible. Sing starts to lose his mind.

 

He looks so pretty, as usual, but seeing him in such vulnerable state makes Sing melt. His brain feels like jelly. He can’t help but smile, hand itching from brushing the stray hair from Yue-Lungs closed eyes.

 

_Should I just kiss him now?_

Sing shivers at the thought. He changes his position so that he faces the wall. He’s afraid that, if he keeps on staring Yue-Lung, he will wake up and catch him looking at him so intensely. Or worse, he won’t be able to control his own impulse and kiss him for real.

 

After closing his eyes for a few moment, he sleeps too, and wakes up when it’s dark. He rubs his eyes, yawns, and flinches in surprise when the clock shows: 11.47.

 

“Yue-Lung, Yue-Lung,” he shakes the body next to him. Yue-Lung lets out a tiny ‘huh?’ and opens his eyes. “It’s almost midnight.”

 

“Almost midnight?” Yue-Lung sits up in a second. “We missed dinner.”

 

“Are you hungry?”

 

“Mhm. But it’s too late for dinner now. I’ll ask for some cakes and tea. The one in the pot is probably cold by now.”

 

Sing doesn’t ask if there are still servants awake by now, but when Yue-Lung rings a bell, a butler enters the room, looking fresh in a suit and not at all sleepy. Yue-Lung makes his orders.

 

“Let’s watch fireworks,” Yue-Lung says. There is a door that leads to a balcony in Yue-Lung’s room, so they go there, even if they have to sit on the floor. The cakes and tea soon come to accompany them.

 

Yue-Lung takes a sip. When the first firework is fired, he puts the cup down and gazes at the sky with glimmering eyes. Sing misses the firework only so that he won’t miss the look on Yue-Lung’s face.

 

He looks like a little child. Excited, enthusiastic over small things like fireworks. Sing wonders that it must be lonely for Yue-Lung. He lives with brothers who don’t seem to care about him and never has any actual friends in school.

 

“Sing,” Yue-Lung speaks, voice soft and tender. “I’m happy.”

 

“Uh. Me too.”

 

“No, you don’t get the kind of happiness I’m feeling right now,” he answers.

 

“Why not?”

 

“It’s unfathomable. I feel like crying.”

 

“Please don’t cry.”

 

_Damn, I’m so bad at this!_

When the fireworks go wilder, they know that it’s a sign that time is approaching the new year. There are even Catherine wheels and Roman candles, and other vibrant ones.

 

Yue-Lung and Sing are close to each other. Their shoulders almost touch; a dangerous, tingling gap.

 

Only, Sing doesn’t expect Yue-Lung to close it. He doesn’t expect him to hold his hand either. Hand on hand, then fingers entwining effortlessly. Yue-Lung’s hand is cold, a little sweaty, but fits Sing’s regardless, like complementary pieces of puzzle.

 

“Happy New Year, Sing.”

 

Sing is too bewildered to answer. He wants to say an appropriate answer—a returned ‘Happy New Year’, but he doesn’t get to. He looks sideways to Yue-Lung, seeing him beaming a smile, and that just stops him from speaking.

 

But that’s not exactly what prevents him from speaking at all. Sure, Yue-Lung has got him speechless multiple times before, but he knows that he can talk if he tries harder. This time, though, it’s really impossible for him to talk, because his lips are sealed, locking with Yue-Lung’s gently.

 

Sing doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t know if he should purse his lips, if he should breathe, if he should close his eyes. Yue-Lung seems to be waiting for him to do something, though. So Sing follows his instincts; kissing back and lifting his hand up to cup Yue-Lung’s cheeks.

 

_Soft._

Yue-Lung’s lips are soft, his cheeks are soft, and even his breath against Sing’s skin is soft. The fireworks are as loud and noisy as ever, but Sing finds tranquility in _this_. Yue-Lung is pouring out his sincerity to the kiss, and it’s overflowing Sing with love. It’s as if Yue-Lung is handing Sing his heart, trusting the fragility of it into Sing’s arms.

 

Yue-Lung is the one who pulls away. Sing doesn’t dare to look at him in the eyes, but when he does, he finds home.

 

“Happy New Year, Yue-Lung.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Please let me know what you think! TwT
> 
> Yell at me on twitter: [icryoverships](https://twitter.com/Icryoverships)


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